Savin' Me
by kasviel
Summary: MOVIEBASED. SLASH. PeterHarry. After tragedy strikes Peter's life, he decides to deal with a problem that has been haunting him for a while: Harry Osborn. In an effort to repair their friendship, Peter reaches out. Meanwhile, Harry tries to use the opport
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** This is an 'alternate universe' story about what might have happened if Mary Jane Watson weren't in the picture (not for too long, anyway). Modern story, because it is **based on the movie**, not the comics. This takes place directly after "Spider-man 2", and spins into it's own thing. It can be sappy at points, but IMO it isn't too much ; It's very sweet, **Peter/Harry coupling**, and it does have enough angst to keep it from being pointless fluff. So, without further ado, here! Sorry for all the bold underlining, but I do have to warn about the SLASH. If you're M/M-phobic, do not read or review, please!

**Part One**

**Scene 01: Saying Goodbye Too Soon**

"It's just like you would have wanted it; everyone's eyes are on you, and...you're beautiful."

The soft words lightly swept over the face of the young lady lying still among the layers of white silk. A tear fell on her fair, soft skin, tracing down the curves of her complexion delicately and seeping into a tendril of red hair. The shoulders of the youth standing over her hunched as he collapsed, having to crip the side of the casket lightly to stay on his feet.

"It's my fault," he said softly, gazing down at her through streams of tears. "I couldn't save you. You chose me, and I couldn't be there for you."

He was alone beside the open casket, as all the others had already laid their roses atop her chest, and were huddled in small groups around the lavish room, talking in a hush about the tragedy. The youth's words were not completely unheard, however; standing within earshot, just a few feet from the casket, was another young man with wavy dark brown hair and a good-looking face, dressed in a distinct black suit for the funeral. His eyes watched the man in front of the casket discreetly, from the very corners, and he frowned ever-so-slightly.

_I know I should say something,_ the thin youth thought to himself. _He was there for me, when..._

_...No...that was his fault in the very first place._

_Wasn't it?_

He turned towards the sobbing man. _Peter Parker, my best friend who was at my side when my father was buried...and who was the one who killed my father at the same time. Hypocrite. How could I comfort him now? How could I!_

Nonetheless, he approached Peter, and even went as far as to extend a hand towards him. Peter turned to face him before, and he withdrew his hand before it was able to offer any comfort. The two said nothing for a moment, eyes searching one another's for a clue as to the other's emotions.

"Harry..."

"People die around you, Peter," Harry Orborn quickly cut his old friend off. His face was cold now, although his eyes glimmered with conflict. "Your uncle was on his way to pick you up, and he was shot in cold blood. My father faced off with you, and you murdered him. Even Doc. Ock, who was your scientific idol once, died by your hand."

Peter stared at him in absolute shock. "!"

Harry's thin hand swept over the side of the casket, face softening as he looked in at the girl. "And now Mary Jane leaves her wedding to be at your side, and she gets hit by a truck." He turned back to the stunned, fast-crumbling Peter coolly. "Funny that no matter how many nobody's you've saved, you're never able to save the people important to you."

"I don't save nobody's, I save _people_," Peter said angrily, keeping his voice low and glancing around. "And you have to know that if I could have any of those four be alive today, I would."

"I'm not saying you wouldn't," Harry said nonchalantly. "I'm just noting your body count."

Peter's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. "...I don't want to fight with you, Harry," he said quietly, "especially not here, not now."

"You sure?" The thin youth advanced on Peter, eyes glaring viciously. Their bodies nearly touched. "You don't want to kill me the way you did my father?"

"Don't be that way," Peter whispered, light eyes downcast.

Harry just faced him stubbornly, almost childish in his desire to fight. Peter took a step back, and then looked at him with a subtle firmness. "I need to talk to you, Harry."

Harry blinked, taken slightly off guard by the misplaced request. "Huh?"

"It's just us now," Peter said, motioning towards Mary Jane's lifeless figure. "I don't want to fight, and I don't want you to hate me."

"So?"

"So, I'll be at your home tonight," Peter informed him. "After the...funeral."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Peter spoke first.

"Just let me mourn MJ until then, ok?" he begged exhaustedly. "Please."

Harry shut his mouth, eyeing her anxiously. _MJ...I'd almost forgotten...that she's gone now..._

Peter slipped into the crowd before Harry looked up again. He looked after Peter, but decided to let him go. Giving his ex-girlfriend one last, sad gaze, he exited the parlor. On the streets, he turned his face to the overcast sky, exhaling laboredly, and shut his eyes.

_But even now, even here...Parker is all I can think or care about. How can my preoccupation with him overshadow the loss of the woman I once loved? Why don't I feel her death as deeply as I should? Is it because...she never loved me? Because she loved him..._

_Parker..._

_Spider-man... _

_Maybe I am obsessed._

His eyes slid open again and he stood still in the wind for a long moment. Then, he removed a thin silver flask from his coat pocket, and took a long swig as he approached a waiting limosuine. Climbing in, he moodily demanded, "Take me home."

The driver seemed startled, undoubtedly because the funeral had not ended yet. Nonetheless, he knew better than to argue with an Osborn. "Yes sir."

Harry looked out the window at the building, knowing he would miss the procession to the cementary, not caring. Even the alcahol could not erase his muddled feelings for Peter Parker; in fact, the more drunk he became, the sharper the pain was.

_I can't...I can't stop thinking about him! Both of them...both...No. No, it's the same person! It's him, it's...it's all him!_

_What does he want from me, anyway? Is he going to dare and try to explain his murdering my father?_

The youth exhaled, frown fading, and leaned back in his seat. He stared out the window, eyes glimmering with a wistful look. _Give me a reason, Peter. Give me a reason to forgive you..._

_But even if I do forgive you, we can never go back, can we? He's not even the Peter Parker I used to know, he's...almost another entity, this...'Spider-man'. The Spider-man who killed my father..._

_But maybe...just maybe...there is a reason why...more of a reason than I know right now..._

_Please, tell me, Peter...Tell me why...and...let it be enough for me to forgive you._

**Scene 02: Shadows Over Reconciliation**

Upon returning home, Harry's mood worsened. He went back and forth pacing, caught between a smidgeon of hope and a torrent of anger. His head was aching from the blur of intoxication, and his heart felt as if it were ripping apart. "Peter..."

All the memories of his once-dorky, dependable friend filled his heart. He had always been so sweet, all too happy to help with homework or listen to Harry's problems with a sympathetic ear. Not once had he ever complained or argued or insulted Harry, even though they were as different as night and day. He was a helping hand, a comforting voice, a sidekick, and most importantly a friend...during a time when Harry had been somewhat avoided due to his intimidating social status as an heir. Peter had always been there...

Then there was the mental image he had of Spider-man...the psuedo-hero who left behind death as much as he saved people. This was a human, but barely a human, so detached from the world he hid in costume and mask. He claimed to save people, to help people...but...

"It doesn't make any sense!"

It was beyond Harry how quiet, geeky Peter Parker was suddenly a phenomenom that swept through the city anonymously killing 'bad guys' and saving the innocent with the powers of being a human-insect hybrid. Peter would save people at the drop of a hat, Harry knew that, but would he kill in order to do so? Peter wouldn't hurt a fly...how could he have watched his father die, and even Dr. Octavius, and whomever else had died? Even if they were doing wrong, even if they were evil...did Peter really have it in him to take their lives? Did he really think he had the right to kill anyone? _Peter_?

Harry brooded for the rest of the morning, finally passing out on the chaise lounge from drunkenness. The hours slipped by in the dark room, marked only by the ticking of the massive grandfather clock near the entrance.

"Mr. Osborn? Mr. Osborn."

Harry awoke to his butler's quiet voce. "Hunnmmpphh?"

"There is a Peter Parker here to see you."

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, send him in."

He sat up, rubbing his bloodshot eyes sleepily. As his vision cleared, Peter came into view. His eyes were also red and puffy, and he was still in his funeral suit (which looked like a rental). Harry looked him up and down. "Not using the balcony this time? Spider-man?" he asked nastily.

"I'm not Spider-man, Harry," Peter said wearily.

"Why? Suit at the cleaners?"

"No, Harry! There _is_ no Spider-man anymore," Peter tried to explain, stepping furhter into the expansive room. "Without Mary Jane, I can't use any of my powers."

Harry's eyes lit with interest. "Really?" He stood, slowly making his way to Parker. "You have no shooting webs or super-human strength? No lightning reflexes? No wall-climbing ability?"

"Nothing. I don't think I ever will again."

Harry drew a decorational (but sharp) dagger from its holder on a table. "So this time..." He pointed it directly beneath Peter's chin.

"This time, it would kill me." Peter met his old friend's eyes directly. "But I know _you_ won't kill me."

"How can you be so sure!" Harry shouted at him. The blade pressed into Peter's flesh, pricking his neck. "You killed my father! You think I won't avenge him!"

"He wouldn't want you to!"

"How do you know that! You didn't know him! I knew him! I was his son!"

"I was with him when he died, that's how I know!" Peter admitted tensely. "But I can't tell you anything more than that."

"Why!"

"Because it was his dying request that I don't!"

The dagger lowered, and Harry stared at the floor. "..."

"He didn't want you to remember how he died, or why," Peter said cautiously, rubbing his neck. "He would have wanted you to remember him, the way he was..."

"...before the Green Goblin."

The dagger fell from Harry's hand, clattering on the floor. Peter gaped at him, frowning in confusion. "What?"

Harry stumbled away from him, holding his head at the temple. "..."

"You knew?"

"I know now." Harry drew a shuddery breath, leaning on an old, heavy wood desk. "My father...used himself as the test subject...and it drove him crazy...it failed. The experiment failed, and he became...a monster...He killed all those people. He almost killed MJ..."

"Even under the influence of those chemicals, in that altered state...he was doing everything for your sake, Harry."

Harry whipped around. "You're saying it's my fault!"

"No! No!" Peter said quickly, holding up his hands in defense. "I'm saying that he loved you, and he...wouldn't want to see you like this."

"...Like this..."

Peter tentatively approached him. He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Harry faced him suddenly.

"Then why didn't you save him!" he shouted in anguish. He grabbed Peter by the shirt and shook him violently. "Why couldn't you bring him back to me! WHY!"

"Because the monster that took control of him used his body to battle me to the death!" Peter exclaimed. "He was using the hoverboard as a weapon...he aimed it at me, and...and I jumped out of the way! And..."

"No...No, I don't want to hear this!" Harry said, tearing away from Peter and stumbled aside.

"And it impaled him," Peter said softly. "I tried to save him before that. Do you think I didn't try! Do you really believe that I would have let him die if there had been any chance of saving him?"

"No...yes...I don't know." Harry collapsed onto the chaise, holding his head in his hands. "You're not a killer, Peter, but...but then why is my father dead?"

"If you really believe I am to blame, then kill me," Peter said listlessly. "If it would make you happy, honestly, do it. But just be prepared for what death...looks like...feels like..."

Harry glanced up at him, and for the first time he saw Peter's eyes through and through. They were no longer bright and clear, but flat and dead, their light blue shade giving them a ghostly look. And for the first time in years, he looked older, and this time he looked worn. It was evident now how Mary Jane's death had destroyed him.

"Be prepared to wake up every morning and look in the mirror...and know you have so many deaths over your head. To...not have a single night where you don't see them, hear them, and to have to tear yourself away from an endless trance of wondering 'what if' and doubting every single move you made..." Peter stood over Harry, looking at him with sympathy. "If you have to kill me, then kill me...but...I really hope you don't. Not because I want to live, but...so you don't ever suffer the way I have."

Harry stared up at him. _He's sincere...I can tell...He sounds like the Peter I know, only...weighed down by the entire world...by all that pain..._

_Pain?_

"You think you're the only one that hurts?" Harry asked bitterly. He stood, coming at Peter so fast that the other youth backed away. "Don't give me that tortured hero crap! What the hell do you know about pain!"

"How can you say that to me today?" Peter asked, looking deeply wounded. "I buried the only woman I'll ever love today!"

"I lost my father!" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs.

"You're not the only one who's ever suffered!" Peter yelled back, something he never would have done years ago. "I know you're hurting, but so am I, damn it! I've lost almost everyone I love!"

"But I didn't take them from you!" Harry pointed out. "I've never hurt you, Peter! And you took my father away from me!"

"Are you forgetting that you almost stole MJ from me! Knowing I loved her!"

"So what, killing my father was revenge!"

"NO!" Peter exploded, beyond the point of exasperation. "I didn't _murder_ him! I would have saved him if I could have! Believe me, I know exactly what you're going through--"

Harry slapped him hard across the face. "Don't say you understand! You've never even had a father to lose!"

Peter blinked in surprise, and then shocked them both by returning the slap; however, his hand hit with more-than-human impact, and Harry was knocked far to the floor, crying out in pain. Horrified, Peter ran to him and knelt at his side.

Clutching his cheek, Harry glowered at him through a blur of tears. "I thought you had no powers!" he yelled, dismayed and hurt.

"I didn't think so, either..." Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I really, really don't want to hurt you...any more than I already have...Please, believe me. You're all I have left now!"

Peter looked ready to cry himself, but Harry suddenly embraced him. Stunned, Peter hesitantly held him, as Harry felt himself breaking down, sobbing into Peter's shirt. _I want to believe him,_ he thought as he cried loudly, _but how can I? How can I forgive him? But...I want to forgive him...I..._

"You haven't cried like this in years," Peter said softly, smiling a little. His grip on Harry tightened. "Don't cry because of me."

"Just...just shut up!" snapped the abashed, shaken youth.

"It's okay, you've cried in front of me before," Peter said softly into Harry's ear, holding him closely now. "Remember when you failed _all_ your science courses?"

"Yeah." Sniffling, he made a small, amused sound. "I hated having to disappoint my father, especially after my geeky friend had impressed him so much. But you--"

"--told you that I wouldn't let you fail anything again," Peter finished. He drew Harry back a little, to look him in the eye. "And after that, I never let you hand in anything unless I'd double-checked it. Remeber what you said on your next report card?"

"Thank God for you, Peter," Harry whispered. "...The same thing I said...after I buried my father."

Peter stood, helping his rattled friend to his feet. "Do you really think I would have killed him in cold blood? I understand how you thought Spider-man would, since he was a stranger whom you saw bring your father's body home without saying a word; but now that you know it was me, do you really think the same thing of _me_?"

"I don't...know what to think, Peter," Harry mumbled, holding his head. "I saw you bring him back...and you didn't say anything...I know you promised him you wouldn't, but...but...I wasn't there...How do I know you're not lying to me now?"

Peter led him to the chaise and sat him down. "Just give me the chance to prove to you that I'm still your best friend, that I'm still the same...Peter Parker..."

"Peter..." Harry stared at him for a long moment, and then turned his face. The handprint was still red on his cheek, and burning. "No. You've changed."

"I have changed, but so have you," Peter said. "We're older, but we're not different people, and I know for a fact we haven't outgrown each other. I still need you in my life, and I know deep down...you need me, too. Who else do we have, Harry?"

"...But you don't have to believe me right now," Peter said, squeezing Harry's hand briefly and standing. "Just take care of yourself, and try...please try not to hate me. That's all I'll ask of you, all want...all...your father would have wanted."

"My father..." Harry's eyes shifted to the far right side of the wall, where a huge white drape cloth hung over the space where the mirror used to be. "..."

Peter followed his gaze, taking note of the cloth, and then leaned down and gripped Harry's shoulder again. Not knowing what else to say or do, he turned and began to leave.

"...Peter!"

Peter stopped and turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Tell me everything that happened with my father," Harry demanded. He caught Peter's reluctance, and went on to insist, "I need to know! Please! I wasn't able to be there with him..."

"But you were the only person he was thinking of," Peter said softly. He exhaled, pushing his hair back, and returned to the sitting area. "Okay. I'll tell you everything that happened, from the beginning."

The evening faded into a cool, moist-smelling night as Peter relayed the tale of Norman Osborn's desperate last experiment, in which he used himself as the test subject. Fresh tears fell from the young heir's eyes, as they repeatedly shifted to the mirror's place, and he was hugging himself subconsciously for comfort. Peter watched him, his own heart twisting, but spoke steadily until he had told it all.

"I only jumped out of the way," he concluded. "I would have stopped it from hitting him, but it happened so fast...Maybe I shouldn't have gotten out of the way..."

"No, I'm glad you saved yourself, Peter," Harry said quietly. "That monster had to be stopped, it's just...I wish it could have turned out differently..."

"Me too."

There was a heavy silence between then. The long drapes in front of the terrace doors swayed gently in the breeze, moonlight briefly shining in and illuminating the dark, antique-filled residence.

"...I forgive you, Peter."

It was little more than a whisper, but it got Peter's attention like a shot. "You do?"

Harry nodded. "I don't know if I ever even intended _not_ to forgive you."

The moonlight faded away as clouds overcome the sky. The room darkened.

"...Hey, do you want to stay for dinner?"

A bit confused, Peter frowned. "Uh...I'm sorry, I...I have to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, staring at the floor blankly. "I hate being alone in this place."

"You'll be fine, Harry," Peter assured him, standing and stretching. "You're stronger than you think, you know."

"No, Peter...I'm not."

The breeze brushed in the scent of rain, and within moments a patter of water could be heard. Harry exhaled. _I always hated the rain..._

"You are. Your father thought so, I think so."

"My father didn't think I was strong." Harry walked over to the terrace doors. "He always admired your strength, your independance, your genius..."

"Is that what you think?" Peter asked incredulously. "Harry, your father thought I'd be a good hire for OsCorp, that's all!"

"You didn't hear the way he talked about you all the time," Harry said sullenly, shutting the terrace doors. "You didn't see the regret in his eyes when he looked at me."

"You're right, I didn't," Peter agreed, "because there wasn't any! Even as the Green Goblin, everything he did was for your sake."

"You're saying it's my fault!"

"No!" Peter exclaimed. "I'm saying there was nothing, not even those chemicals, that could have stopped him from loving you. God, Harry, he would have done anything for you! How can you think he favored _me_?"

"You heard the way he gushed about you!"

"He was trying to make you competitive, that's all, so you could outdo me," Peter explained. "And maybe he did regret some things about raising you, since you were so sheltered, but he knew there was no other way he possibly could have raised you. The only thing he ever wanted was to protect you."

"Yes, and he did such a great job," Harry said bitterly. He went to the dry bar and began to pour himself a drink.

"Don't say that."

Harry was a little amused at Peter's scolding tone, but he couldn't argue that he was right. "I didn't mean it," he said quietly. "I just...I don't know."

Suddenly, something hit the side of Harry's glass, just as he was about to take a sip, and it was snatched from his hand. Baffled, he turned to Peter, and the saw glass in his hand, tangled in a stringy web.

"He _did_ do a great job, probably too good a job," Peter told him. "But...it's your responsibility to see his efforts through. If you choose to be weak this way, it's _your_ fault, and no one else's."

Harry gaped at him. _Is this really Peter? He's still quiet, but it isn't out of fear or shyness. He's strong, certain...even reprimanding. We're the same age, but he's...he's speaking like...like my father, actually. When did he grow up?_

Peter dumped the glass into the fireplace, and then left without another word. Harry fell into a chair, chagrined and confused.

"I sincerely hope that was only a ploy."

It was a voice he'd heard all his life, but now it chilled his blood. The young man looked around frantically. "Huh?"

"Tell me you haven't _really_ forgiven him."

"I...YES! I DID!" Harry shouted defiantly, jumping to his feet. "Peter's my best friend! I believe him!"

"Oh, Harry...your weakness never ceases to amaze me...or to disappoint me."

"I'm not weak!" Harry defended himself, holding his head in his hands as pain began to seep in. "I'm not weak! Peter told me that I'm strong!"

"Peter told you, Peter told you," the voice mocked him. "What about what _I_ tell you! Am I or am I not your father!"

"You're not!" Harry told him, walking towards the drape cloth. "You're that monster!"

"Is that what Parker told you? That I'm not the same? That we're two separate beings? LOOK AT ME!"

Harry's eyes fell to the fragments of glass on the floor. Within each one, he could see a reflection of his father.

"How can you say I'm not your father?"

Harry stared into the glass in terror. "...!"

"That was an excuse, a lie!" Norman Osborn's image told his son. "Parker doesn't want you to see him as the man whom killed your father, but he is that man! It doesn't matter if he calls me the Green Goblin or anything else! **I am your father**!"

Harry fell to his knees, shards of glass slicing through his pants and cutting his knees. "Dad..."

"That's right, son," Norman said, tone softer but his voice still cruel. "I am your father, and would you deny me vengence? You would choose _Parker_ over me?"

"No, I...I love Peter!" Harry confessed tearfully. He stared away from the glass, shocked by the words. "I...love...Peter..." His eyes returned to the floor and traced over the glass, each piece slicing his hands. "Please, don't make me choose!"

"It shouldn't be a choice, you sniveling coward!" Normal screamed at his son. "You shouldn't even doubt avenging me!"

"Dad..."

"Stop crying! If you want me to be proud of you, you have to _earn_ my pride! No more freebies, no more coddling! If you want me to love you, you have to kill Parker and avenge me!"

"No, please...please, dad...Dad?" Harry searched the glass wildly, but his father was gone. "No, no don't leave me! Don't hate me! Father...please...please don't be disappointed with me!"

He took the shards into his hands, blood mingling with his falling tears. "I don't want to be weak, anymore, but...I don't want to hate Peter...I don't want to hate Peter...I can't hate Peter! I...I...Why am I so weak!"

**Scene 03: One Last Promise**

In his dirty, dingy apartment, Peter Parker was also facing demons. He was too numb to cry anymore, and so he sat on the floor, staring blankly out the window. The rain was coming down in torrents now, and it gave the entire world a morose feeling.

Peter's confrontation with Harry Osborn was long forgotten; in his mind, all he could see was MJ, first in life...and then in death. He would never believe she was gone, but at the same time, he would never see her again...

"She was coming to me...she chose me...and she died."

The words drifted into the dark silence as the young man's consciousness waned. Before he even realized he was asleep, he was dreaming. At least, he thought he was dreaming; he found himself back in the Osborn living room, on his feet looking around.

"Peter..."

Alarmed, he looked around the collection of old furniture. The air was heavy and smelled moist, but outside it was day and the sunlight was shining in through the widnows. The drape cloth was gone, and the mirror intact. Peter approached it hesitantly. "Harry?"

"No, Peter. It's me."

As he got closer, Peter realized the reflection in the mirror was not his own; standing on the other side of the mirror was Norman Osborn.

"Mr. Osborn!"

"Hello, Peter," Normal said, a bit mournful but otherwise just as Peter remembered him to be. There was no malice on his face or in his eyes, only a deep-set concern. "I'm sorry to be disturbing you like this, on the night you lost Mary Jane."

"Am I--"

"Dreaming?" Mr. Osborn nodded. "Yes, in the sense that you are not conscious."

"I never got to tell you...I'm so sorry..."

"No, I am the one who is sorry, Peter," Mr. Osborn told him. "In my fervor to give my son the world, I ended up being the one who hurt him the most."

Peter felt a pang of sympathy, and couldn't think of anything to say. Staring into the face of the man he'd watched die, he began to wonder if Harry was right to hate him for letting Norman die.

"When you said that I couldn't have raised him any other way, you were dead on," Mr. Osborn went on. "From the moment he was born, that beautiful little baby...I was determined to protect him from ever feeling the pain I felt growing up. But while I was preoccupied with protecting him from petty things like poverty and hard work, I let him fall prey to more hindering realities, like being left naive and deluded in believing he could buy anything and anyone he wanted. Yes, I left him spoiled, and a tad bit of a brat. But he can't be blamed for it; all his life, he was cared for, and so why would he want anything less? But now that he has no one to take care of him anymore, during the years he would have needed me most, I can't be there for him. My ambitions for both of us got the best of me, and now I can't reach him anymore."

"You didn't have bad intetions," Peter told him. "It wasn't your fault."

"No, it was. It was, and I admit it," Norman said. "However, I'm afraid it is too little, too late, coming from me. You are the one I must burden with my responsibilities."

"What? Me?"

"Yes. You are the only one who can save my son, Peter."

"Is he in danger? He seemed okay," Peter said uncertainly. "He even forgave me."

"He wants to forgive you, Peter," Norman said, "but he is very confused still. There is something happening inside him, and I'm afraid that if no one reaches out to help him, he will follow in my path of manic ambition...and ultimately be destroyed in the same way."

"No!" Peter said fiercely, surprising himself a little. "I won't let that happen! I can't lose him, too."

"Will you save him, then, Peter? Will you save my son?"

"I... don't know how," Peter said. "I couldn't save my uncle or Dr. Octavius...or MJ...I'm not sure if I can save anyone anymore."

"If you want to save him, you'll be able to," Norman said certainly. "But the desire has to be there."

"Of course I want to help him!"

Normal smiled. "Then be there for him, and you'll both be fine."

"...Sir..."

"And Peter."

"I am grateful that you stopped the Green Goblin, even if I had to die," Norman reassured him. "Don't you ever carry any guilt around over that."

"...Thank you, Mr. Osborn."

"No, thank _you_, Peter."

**End of Part One**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

**Scene 01: Breakdown of a Recovery**

The next morning found Harry in the living room, where he had been all night, staring at the mirror's empty place. The blood on his hands had dried, and so had the stains on the carpet and the drops on the broken glass. His hair was on end, clothes smattered with blood, shirt half open. He had spent the entire night crying and drinking, debating out loud to himself, trying to fight back his dark thoughts and his father's words.

Now he had gone dead, not thinking or feeling anything. He stared silently at the drape cloth, too tired to cry, and too troubled to sleep. Suddenly, he was drawn out of his zombie-like state by the brash ring of the phone. Harry stood shakily, shivering a little, and went over to the phone. After watching it for several rings, he picked it up. "..."

"Uh. Hi? Harry?"

Harry's eyes lit. "Peter?" he asked hopefully, clutching the phone in both cut-up hands.

"Yeah, it's me. Hey, um...I was thinking about things, and...you said you don't like being alone there, and I really don't want to be by myself right now, either."

"Yeah?"

"So...it's Saturday, right? You wanna...hang out? Like old times?"

Harry did not react for a long moment, the words running through his mind several times before he understood them. Finally, a genuine smile crept over his lips. _He wants...to be friends again...He wants to be with me...Someone wants...to be with me again..._

"Harry?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds cool. Only, not here."

"Huh?"

"Let's...go to that old arcade we used to play in. You can do your homework while I game. Remember?"

Peter chuckled on the other end of the line. "Yeah, I do. Okay. I'll be done there in about ten minutes; I'm not far."

"Okay."

"Um, see ya."

Harry hung up the phone. He stared out the French doors leading to the terrace, at the sun-filled day, and puzzled how he felt about all this.

_Maybe if I just got out of here for a change, I'd be all right. Like old times...yeah...maybe we can just be friends again...I'd like that..._

As he thought this, he began to feel himself falling back into reality. The open wounds on his hands and knees began to sting, and he felt sweaty and dirty. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then left the living room.

Upstairs, the youth got some fresh clothes from his room and locked himself in the adjoining bathroom (which was more like a small spa). He ran the water warm and climbed into the shower, finally better finally as the blood and alcahol was washed down the drain.

_I want to go back to normal. I can't stand so much pain. It just hurts too much to hate Peter...because..._

_Because I love him..._

_I love him more than I ever realized before._

Harry ran his thin hands through his brown hair, water falling over his skin. He ran a bar of soap over his skin, trying to erase the acrid smell of liquor.

_I don't even remember when I fell in love with him...maybe I've loved him all along...or maybe it was during that report card incident he talked about...or when he slapped me last night and I saw how horrified he was about it...Maybe it's because even after he lost the one person he's always loved, he still took time to make peace with him, he still insisted on telling me the truth...Even though I know all he wants is to be alone and mourn MJ, he's still determined to rebuild our friendship..._

_All of those things, everything's he's ever done for me...that's why I love him. It doesn't matter when I fell in love with him. All that matters is...I love him..._

_...and I want him...for myself...all to myself..._

**Scene 02: Like Old Times...Only Not**

After his shower, Harry left his home. He had his car brought around and was driven down to the shopping district where the arcade was. Although he was excited and happy, he climbed out coolly, ever the heir, and approached Peter with a calm facade. "Hey."

Peter grinned in typical Peter fashion; he would have looked goofy if it weren't for his lack of glasses. "Hi!"

Harry was twenty minutes late, but Peter didn't seem to care. Harry looked him up and down, and could tell he was putting up a brave front in the face of living life without MJ. "Where are your books?"

"I thought I'd play, for a change."

Harry nodded, and finally had to crack a smile. "You really have changed. But not enough to beat me."

"You're on."

From here, the two spent the morning like any other young men; playing the arcade both together and against each other, discussing nothing important, and laughing with each other for the first time in two years. Although each had a lot on their mind and some unresolved turmoil, they were, in unspoken agreement, friends again.

Lunchtime came, and they left the arcade for the streets. They grabbed a couple of hot dogs and sodas from the nearest food stand and strolled the streets eating.

"That wasn't fair!" Harry was griping. "How could anyone beat _Spider-man_ at Dance Dance Revolution?"

"Sorry," laughed Peter. "I had no idea my powers were fully back."

They sat down on a bench near a park, by a grand water fountain.

"After losing MJ, I shouldn't have any powers," Peter explained, mentioning her for the first time. "When she was engaged to another man, I lost my powers...so I figured now that she's gone forever...so would my powers be. I just don't get it. Why do I still have them?"

"Because you probably realize that MJ would _want_ you to have them," Harry said casually. His eyes narrowed slightly. "She was always so impressed by Spider-man after he saved her. You were her _hero_, her _savior_, her precious Spider-man..."

Peter looked at him. "Now you're just mocking me."

"Anyway...you'll probably stay Spider-man to honor her memory," Harry said, rolling his eyes as if this was the corniest thing in the world.

"Yeah, but not only for that."

Chewing on a bite of hot dog, Harry glanced at Peter from the corner of his eyes. "No?"

"No. I still have you to protect--"

Harry choked on his food, coughing and rushing to wash it down with soda.

"--and my Aunt May," Peter continued slowly, eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," rasped Harry. Blushing, he took another long sip before speaking again. "-Ahem-! I'm fine."

_I'm so not fine. I'm freaking out._

"So...yeah...I guess I'm stuck being Spider-man," Peter smiled. "But it's not a bad thing."

Harry gave him a weak smile, but he could not look at him very long. _Now this is really awkward. Darn, why did I have to realize my feelings for him? It's just going to complicate everything._

_...Actually, it always has complicated everything. The moment he started making headway with MJ, I took her away from him. It wasn't because I loved her, it was because I was jealous of how he felt for her, jealous of the way **he** loved her. I wanted him to love me, not her, so I tore them up...or...I tried to, anyway..._

"You sure you're ok?" Peter touched a hand to Harry's forehead. "You're burning up. Are you sick?"

_Lovesick._

"No." Harry pushed Peter's hand away curtly.

"What happened to your hands, anyway?" Peter persisted. "They weren't all bandaged up yesterday."

"I was picking up some glass."

"_You_ were picking up?" Peter joked.

"I'm capable of cleaning up!"

Both their gazes fell on the bandages. Peter gave him a look. "..."

Harry smirked. "...Well...sort of..."

They both laughed. It was a long-running joke between them how pampered Harry was.

"So, are you trying to be independant now?"

"No. Actually," Harry replied, getting more serious, "I know I always said that I couldn't wait to be on my own, but the truth is, I'm not cut out for it. I was...going to ask you if you wanted to be roommates again?"

"Really? Wow...I...Don't you think it's a little soon, after...everything?"

"I think it would help," Harry told him. "It would bring us together."

"Yeah...but I can't afford even half the rent at a nice apartment anymore," Peter said. "And I wouldn't ask you to move into a dump."

"I would pay the whole rent, Peter," Harry reminded him. "You know I wouldn't mind."

"I couldn't live off your money, Harry."

"Why?" Harry asked irritably. "You're too good for my money?"

"I wouldn't feel right taking _anyone's_ money," Peter replied.

"Hmph." Harry contemplated this, so annoyed he had to take a moment before speaking again. "...Well. Would you at least join me for dinner tonight? Or are you too good for my food, too?"

"Actually, I think everyone deserves a free meal once in a while," Peter chuckled.

Harry looked at him suspiciously. "That's a change."

"Well, like I said, I don't think either of us should be alone," Peter said, although not meeting Harry's eye.

Harry was about to press him further when his cell phone rang. Annoyed, he picked it up and viciously inquired, "_Yes_!"

Peter got up to throw away his soda can and napkins, and Harry distractedly handed him his own garbage. Peter gave him a look, but took it all to the waste bin, just smiling and shaking his head.

Harry's temper had calmed, but he was still frigid as he spoke on the phone. "Ah ha...Yes...I said, yes!...Okay...Okay. **Bye**." He hung up with a sigh. "Business. I'm going to have to go." And he started punching in some numbers. "Hello? Yes, I'm at the fountain downtown, bring the car around."

Peter shrugged. "Okay."

"I'll see you at eight, if you don't change your mind," Harry said, standing.

"I won't, Harry."

The car came around (_Wow, what service,_ Peter marveled) and Harry climbed in. Phone still in hand, he told the driver where to go, and they were on their way. Out the window, he watched Peter until he was out of sight.

_He's hiding something...There's got to be some reason for this sudden attention. Yesterday, he didn't look like he wanted to be anyone's friend anymore, and now he's suddenly trying to be buddy-buddy, "like old times"?_

_What does he really want?_

Harry smiled, eyes glinting evilly. _I know what **I** want. I know exactly what I want. But what does Peter want? And will it interfere with what I'm after?_

**Scene 03: Saving a Friend How Far Do I Go? **

_I wonder what Harry is after?_

That evening, Peter was once again his alter-ego, Spider-man, and in top crimefighting form. He swung agilely through the metropolis, following a squad of cop cars chasing a bank robber's vehicle.

_He seemed okay on the surface, but there was something else going on. Something was different in his eyes, but I couldn't read it. Then his hands were all bandaged and his face was flushed...I hope he isn't...hurting himself..._

Spider-man swung down to the streets just in time to stop the police cars with a web before they crashed into a speeding firetruck. Then, he swung back up and continued jumping from building to building after the getaway car.

_His father told me to save him, but what does he need to be saved from? I don't know if I can fight an invisible enemy. Heck, I'm not even sure if I've completely forgiven him for dealing with Doc Ock and almost getting MJ and half the city blown up! He risked all that, just because he was mad at me, that...that little brat..._

_Actually, maybe it's better we keep the peace. It's safer for everyone if he isn't holding a grudge against me!_

_But...is the grudge really over? Has he really forgiven me? Or is he just pretending? Yesterday, he seemed sincere...but today he was guarded...He put up a great front, but I could tell he was anxious._

_I wonder...if he even knows how he feels..._

He shot a torrent of webs out at the getaway vehicle, tangling it up and stopping it. The thieves got out and tried to make a run for it, but he accousted them quickly.

_Oh yeah! Dinner! Oops, I'd better leave these guys to the cops!_

He threw them onto the web with the car and swung off. He stopped by his apartment (via the window) to grab a change of clothes, figuring he could change at the Osborn place, and then took off for the building.

Once he arrived, it was onto the terrace, and inside from there. Fortunately, Harry had a habit of leaving the French doors open. Peter came into the living room, removing the mask and putting his clothes on over the Spider suit. "Harry?"

The room was dark and empty. Peter felt a little like an intruder as he walked around. _Maybe I shoulder have used the door. Hm...kind of creepy place, creepier than I remembered it to be. No wonder he doesn't like being alone here. But why hasn't he gotten rid of this stuff? Harry likes modern things..._

Something crunched beneath Peter's shoes. The entire right side of the floor was covered in fragments of mirrored glass, all gleaming dully in the dim moonlight. _So this is how Harry got cut,_ Peter thought with a frown. _But what happened to the mirror? In my dream last night, it was intact...Mr. Osborn spoke to me from inside it..._

Peter approached the huge drape cloth covering the empty mirror's place. He felt a familiar presence, but one more evil than Norman Osborn's. He was just about to look behind the cloth when he heard a noise. Startled, he jumped clear to the ceiling, where he stuck. "!"

The lights went on, and Harry Osborn came in. He looked around, face deeply worried, even scared. "Is someone..."

Peter felt a little guilty, trying to decide how to make his presence known without giving Harry a heart attack.

"...Dad?"

Peter's eyes widened. _He looks so small from up here, and he sounds so timid...so scared...I've felt that way before, but I've never seen Harry that way...He really is vulnerable..._

"Dad, I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "I can't avenge you. I can't hate Peter! So-so go away! Leave me alone! Please!"

Peter couldn't stand it any more. He lowered himself down on a web, hanging upside-down behind Harry. "It's okay, Harry."

"AAAAAGGGHHHH!"

The scream startled Peter so much that he fell to the floor. "Ow! Whoa! Harry, Harry, it's me!"

"Oh, Peter!" Harry gasped. He kicked at him. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Sorry! I just...I should have used the door," he apologized, standing up. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I was already on edge, and you--Never mind," Harry said shakily. He looked at Peter and allowed himself to smile. "You came."

"Yeah. Sorry if I'm late," Peter said. "Hey, what happened to your mirror?"

Harry's eyes clouded over slightly. "I, er...I broke it," he said, trying to sound casual. "You know my temper."

"I know your _tantrums_."

Harry gave him a dark look.

Peter scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"...Let's go eat."

Harry took Peter by the arm and pulled him to the dining room. _How long was Parker here, anyway? Did he hear me talking to my father? Damn his powers. Stupid insect-boy._

Appetizers were stilted, and not only because Peter was shocked that some people actually ate in three courses. Harry was embarassed, and therefor resentful. Peter didn't dare say anything. The moments trudged on.

At last, Harry decided not to waste any more time and get it over with. "Why did you call me?"

"Huh?"

"This morning," Harry clarified impatiently. "MJ is dead, and last I knew, you were mad at me for dealing with Ock. So what changed?"

"You forgave me, so why shouldn't I forgive you?" Peter said lamely.

Harry did not buy it. "Oh come on, Peter! Give me a break!"

"I was worried about, all right?" Peter admitted, figuring it wasn't worth the effort to lie. "I had a dream, a premonition."

"About me?"

"Yes." Peter sighed. "About you. Your father came to me in a dream, and...he asked me to save you."

"Save me from what?" Harry asked skeptically.

"I don't know. That's all he said."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I would, of course."

Harry turned red, touched, but played it off with cynicism. "Huh. So Spider-man is here to rescue me. How romantic."

"Why do you _do_ that?"

"What?"

"Make fun of me," Peter said, mildly angry. "I'm not doing anything to you."

Harry ignored him, choosing to keep his attention on the steak he was tearing into. "..."

"You know, you're too old for the brat act to be cute."

That did it. Harry slammed down his utensils and got to his feet. "I've always poked fun at you, you dork!" he snapped. "What, now that you're Spider-man, you're too good to joke at?"

"I'm not trying to fight!" Peter exclaimed, holding his hands up in defense. "It's just that you have a bad habit of sounding malicious. And it's not about being better, it's about finally having the guts to tell you not to do it."

"You're too uptight," Harry said dismissively, sitting down again. However, he was impressed. "Look...I'm just in a bad mood, okay?"

"Okay," Peter said in relief. "Couldn't you have just explained that in the first place?"

"No, because I really don't want to talk about it."

"You sure? You can tell me about it, you know."

"I'm _sure_."

They resumed eating, halfway through the main course by now.

"You saw my father in a dream?"

Peter eyed him cautiously. "Yes."

"Hm..." Harry moodily speared another slice of steak. _That's weird...I've been seeing him, too...but...it's like we're not seeing the same person. The man who is mocking me wouldn't tell Peter to save me...He hates Peter..._

_But my real father never did hate Peter..._

_I wonder..._

"I didn't just call you because of a dream, though," Peter went on. "When I said that you're all I have left, I meant it. I'm not exactly good at being alone, either."

"...Want to spend the night?"

"We're not kids anymore," Peter said gently. "I have my place, you have your home."

Harry bristled. "...I really...hate being here by myself." He tried to sound pitiful, but his anger was showing through.

"Why don't you redecorate?" Peter suggested. "Didn't you say once that you were going to completely redo this place?"

"I can't," Harry said softly. "They're my father's things..."

Peter's gaze fell to his plate. "Oh," he said, a little uncomfortable. A silence fell, one that neither boy was too eager to remedy.

Dinner passed quickly with the quiet; before Harry knew it, Peter was standing and excusing himself. Bewildered, Harry stood and followed him as far as the hall before finally grabbing Peter by the arm. "Wait!"

Peter just looked at him. "?"

"Don't go yet," Harry pleaded. "Let's...hang out for a while."

"Harry..."

The desperation began to show through the cracks of his casual facade. "Please?"

Peter gave him a weak smile. He was emotionally drained, but he knew he couldn't abandon his friend. "Okay."

Harry hid his relief, allowing himself only a tiny, sweet smile. "...Okay."

_He's behaving erratically,_ Peter observed as they headed upstairs. _One moment, he's sullen. The next, he's clingy. Why? Is this place really freaking him out that much? Or is it something else?_

Harry sensed Peter's unease, but was too desperate to care; he knew that the longer he was in the apartment alone, the more his father would torment him. So, he brought Peter up to his room, the only modern-furnished one in the house, and they sat to watch TV. Naturally, Harry commandeered the remote, and flipped through channels until he found something he wanted to see, as Peter just looked on quietly.

_It feels so good to have my old friend back,_ Harry thought, not paying too much attention to the TV, just staring at Peter. _He's kind of difficult, but it's better to have him than to not have him. Anything is better than being alone, anyway. I need someone with me, and who better than Peter Parker? I can't trust myself anymore...but I know I can trust him._

"...I missed you, Peter."

Peter looked at him in surprise. Harry climbed up onto his bed, remote in hand, and opened up a _Rolling Stones_ magazine. Acting as if he had not said anything at all, he lay on his stomach lazily, flipping through the pages half-interestedly. However, beneath this laidback facade, his heart was beating fast, and his face was flushed again.

Just as he'd expected, Peter did not ignore the comment. He got up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, beside Harry. "Really?"

Not looking up, Harry replied, "Yeah."

Peter nodded, although he looked a touch uncomfortable.

"It was nice like this, before MJ got between us," Harry went on, watching Peter carefully. "Now it's just us again."

"Don't say that," groaned Peter," like you're happy about it..."

"I am a little grateful," Harry admitted. "I was alone before, and now...you're here."

Peter bristled. "Do you hear yourself? How selfish can you be?"

Harry was a little miffed by the scolding tone, but remained mellow, "I'm just being honest."

"Harry! ...Mmph, never mind," Peter sighed. "You've always been a little selfish."

"Yes. And I always get what I want." He sat up. "Peter."

Peter was staring at the TV, but his mind was obviously somewhere far away. "But never what you deserve, right?"

"What does _that_ mean?"

"...Nothing."

"You _are_ still mad at me, aren't you?" Harry said knowingly.

"A little."

Their eyes met, and despite the faint animosity, there was a different, new connection between them. Peter was taken off guard, and frowned a little in confusion, but Harry knew exactly what the feeling was...and how to use it. He took Peter by the front of his shirt, and pulled him close until their lips pressed together.

"Mm...mmwhat!" Peter gasped, pulling out of it and nearly falling off the bed. "What're you doing! Harry!"

Harry looked at him, gauging his level of anger. _Hm...I'd better play it less forcefully..._

"Sorry, I...I don't know why I did that," Harry lied, staring at his hands innocently. "I just care about you so much, Peter..."

"...OK. I think I should...um, get going."

Harry reached over and grabbed his sleeve. "Not yet."

"Harry..." Peter shifted on the bed, facing him. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I just want to love you, Peter, that's all," Harry said softly. "I can't be alone now. Please, stay here with me."

"As _what_, Harry? A friend? A lover?" Peter shook his head in confusion. "Since when are you gay, anyway?"

"I'm not _gay_," Harry snipped. "I'd just make an exception for you."

"I'm honored."

"Now _you're_ being cynical."

"...I...don't know what to say to you," Peter said uncertainly. "But I can't just stay here holding your hand! Harry, even if we were lovers, you're a grown man."

"You don't understand!"

"Yes I do!" Peter climbed down from the bed, running his hands through his lank brown hair. "You've never been alone before, I get that! But you can't expect to be taken care of all you're life! Grow _up_, Harry, please!"

"It isn't about that!" Harry snapped. "I...I've seen my father, too, Peter...only...not in a dream."

"What are you talking about?"

Harry got down from the bed also, unwinding the bandages around his hands. "He was in the mirror. That's why I broke it! Then...Then he was in the pieces on the floor!" He held up his torn-up hands. "See? I tried to get rid of him! I tried! But he won't leave me alone!"

Peter stared at him. "Harry..."

"He won't leave me alone unless you're here!" Harry told him, grabbing him by the shirt again. "Do you understand? I love you, and...when he sees that, it makes him leave...But when you're not here, he tries to change my mind...to make me hate you..."

_Oh...I see now,_ Peter thought, looking at Harry sympathetically. _He's losing it. God, why didn't I realize it before? He lost his father at his best friend's hand, his ex-girlfriend died, his company is almost defunct...The pressure was too much. He just snapped, didn't he?_

"Harry..." Peter put his hands on the young heir's cut-up ones. "You think that if I stay, your dad won't...haunt you anymore?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but I'm not crazy," Harry insisted. "You saw him, too! Only...he was nice to you...and he just insults me."

"Your father would never--"

"He does, Peter. He says I'm weak, that I'm too weak to avenge him," confessed the gloss-eyed youth. "But I don't want revenge. I don't want to hate you."

"Shh, it's okay. I'll...I'll stay."

"Thank you." Harry smiled, staring at the floor. _He thinks I'm insane...but that's ok. As long as I have him, here, to myself...nothing else matters. He did take my father away...so he owes it to me to take care of me. That would be a better 'revenge' than killing him...just letting him...in a way...step into my father's place._

Peter was helping Harry climb into bed, giving him a sympathetic look. "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll, er...well, I'll be here..."

Deciding to take further advantage of Peter's belief he was insane, Harry, with an almost childish feigned innocence, asked, "Next to me?"

"Er, I don't think so..."

Harry gripped his arm commandingly, but maintained his innocence. "I--Please? I won't do anything...queer. I just want to know you're there."

"...All right," Peter uncertainly agreed. He climbed onto the bed, leaning against the headboard. Harry smirked smugly to himself, lying on his side next to Peter, and throwing an arm over him.

_This is turning out better than I expected. It's not so much of a lie, either; I **did** see my father...he **is** haunting me. Okay, so maybe I was getting better on my own, just by having forgiven Peter, but...better safe than sorry, right?_

Peter was extremely creeped out, but stayed for the sake of his old friend. Still, he squirmed and exhaled several times, and didn't know where to put his hands. Giving up, he lay on his back, feeling Harry's long, warm body breathing peacefully beside him, his arm still resting over his chest. Peter settled into the bed more, and finally rested his arms on the boy's upper back, holding him in a sense. _Oh boy...this is getting weird. I don't have the heart to leave him now, but I...I don't know what to do. It feels..._

_Jeez, what am I thinking? This is my best friend. Yeah, I love him, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I can love him without getting sexually confused._

_...Can't I?_

**Scene 04: Fighting for Love**

Harry did not help ease Peter's doubts. He tossed and turned throughout the night, slipping in and out of nightmares. Finally, they overwhelmed him, and he awoke with a yelp, sitting straight up in bed. As he felt his chest heaving with effort to breath, he looked out the window; the sun was rising feebly in the city skyline. He could almost hear that voice wafting in between the swaying curtains, _'Harry...'_

Harry shook his head wearily. "No, dad...please..."

_'Ha...rr...y...'_

Harry shifted, and his hand fell on top of something warm and moving. He jumped, and then his eyes fell on Peter. The voice died away as Harry smiled affectionately at his sleeping companion."...Peter...you're still here..."

Peter was sleeping peacefully, hands rested on his chest. Harry leaned over him to take in his face, wishing he could be that restful without being caught up in nightmares. He pressed his lips to the other boy's, whispering softly to him, "I love you so much, Peter..."

Peter shifted slightly. "Mmph...M...MJ..."

Harry made a tiny, amused sound. "No, **not** MJ, Peter," he whispered, stroking Peter's fair face. "It's _me_, Parker. _I_ love you."

Peter heard none of this, but Harry didn't care. He kissed him again, and lay down on his chest. Peter's heartbeat filled his ears, comforting him like a lullaby.

_Wow, he's gotten so strong...I guess being a superhero is a workout. It feels so good here with him...so safe...I know he can protect me from everything, even from myself..._

Harry fell asleep again. This time, he was as at peace as Peter, not even uttering a single whimper.

Peter did not have the same luck. He continued to sleep without interference or fright, but he got quite a shock when he woke up a few hours later. Harry was pleasantly dozing on his chest, their bodies pressed against each other casually, lovingly. Not only that, but Peter had embraced him in his sleep, and his hand had slipped down to his _lower_ lower back. _I was dreaming of holding someone, and it was him! Oh jeeeez..._

Peter slipped away from Harry and got down from the bed. He ran his hands through his lanky brown hair, exhaling and trying to cool the warmth he still felt. _Get a grip, Peter. He's just the same Harry you've always known. I don't have any sexual feelings for him. We're...we're like brothers! Yeah...like brothers, exactly._

Harry stretched, rolling onto his stomach, and yawned. "...Mm...Peter?"

Peter's gaze lingered on his friend's long, lean body. A strange feeling went through him, and he turned his face. "..."

Harry reached around the bed, and frowned when he found it empty. He lifted his head sleepily, curly hair on end. "Peter?"

I've over here," Peter finally admitted. He was standing tensely, fist covering his mouth fretfully.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Oh. Hey." He smiled and stretched lazily, arching his back like a cat. "Ohhh...why'd you...Mm, time s'it?"

Peter shut his eyes, wishing Harry would take more care not to move so suggestively. "Seven."

"Too early!" Harry covered his head with a pillow. "No way I'm getting up now!"

Peter hesitantly approached his bedside. "Why not? I can't hang around all morning waiting for you to get up, you know."

"So don't."

"Breakfast would be nice," Peter said, tension fading. "I'd forgotten how good your chef's cooking is!"

"So tell chef to get you something."

"I'm not gonna boss around _your_ staff!" Peter exclaimed, trying to pull Harry off the bed without hurting him. "Come on. We turned in pretty early."

"I had nightmares."

"Get _up_!"

"Noooooo..."

Peter tried to pull the pillow away from Harry, but Harry tugged it back with surprising strength. They struggled for a little bit, but then Harry released the pillow and grabbed Peter by the shirt instead. Unable to resist the moment, he gave Peter a bold, smothering kiss.

"Mm...Mmmm! Mmbbstob! Stop!" Peter pulled away, face horribly red. "Harry, stop! Why do you keep doing that?"

"I'm sorry, Peter," Harry said, not even bothering to sound sincere. He gave Peter a sleepy smile. "I just...love you so much."

Peter just stared at him, perturbed beyond words.

"Why can't we just be together?" Harry yawned, sitting up fully. "Because we're guys?"

"I'm not ready to be with _anyone_, Harry, don't you get that?" Peter told him, patience wearing thin. "For God's sake, I buried the woman I loved two days ago!"

Harry chewed this over sullenly. "...She would want you to move on, though."

"Not with you!"

Harry's face darkened. "Oh." He stared at his hands, rage boiling through him. "I see."

"I didn't mean that," Peter sighed. "Harry...damn! Why are you so difficult?"

"_I'm_ difficult?" Harry echoed in disbelief. "You're the difficult one, Peter! You're defensive and aloof and...What happened to the old Peter Parker, huh?"

"Oh, the Peter Parker that let you outshine him?" Peter said bitterly. "The one who let you steal his girl right under his nose? The one who never complained about being a sidekick, being shoved into the shadows whenever you thought it was convenient for me to be gone? Who did your homework for you?"

"That isn't fair! You volunteered the help!"

"Yeah, because I liked taking care of you!" Peter's face softened. "I still do. But you insist on pushing me and pushing me! Why?"

"Because I want to be with you, damn it!"

"I thought you just didn't want to be alone?" Peter pointed out. "Last night, you were scared, so I stayed and slept in your bed. But now you're just trying to seduce me!"

_Uh oh...I forgot...my helpless act...Darn!_

Peter read his expression, and realization dawned on his face. "You were just pretending, weren't you?" he asked in disappointment. "You're not crazy. You were just using me!"

"No, wait, Peter...I did see my father!" Harry tried to defend himself. He looked very young sitting cross-legged on the big bed. "Nothing I said was a lie."

"Maybe not, but you used it all against me. You used something that serious to keep me here, because you knew I would stay."

"Well, yeah, but I really _didn't_ want to be alone! And--"

"And you want me," Peter said knowingly, "and you always get what you want. Right, Harry?"

"...Y...Yeah..." Harry confessed, unable to deny his own words. "But! Peter, it's not just about that this time!"

Peter was not listening. He picked up his things, put on his shoes, and began to head for the door. Harry sprung down from the bed. "No! Peter! Don't go!"

"I'm going, Harry!"

"NO!"

Harry grabbed Peter by the arm and slammed him against the wall. "Don't you dare walk out on me!" he demanded, kissing Peter fiercely.

"Mmmooowww!"

When Harry pulled away, Peter's lip was bloodied. It had been more of a bite than a kiss. Harry licked his own lips, wet with the man's blood. Peter's face was serious, and there was an uncharacteristic fury in his blue eyes. Overcome by the feeling, he took hold of Harry by the shoulders and swung him around, so that he was now the one held up against the wall.

Harry's face colored, and his stomach was swimming. The change of attitude in Peter was certainly pleasing, but he was a touch afraid. _He really is strong,_ he thought as he winced. _He looks so handsome this way...more of a man than a boy..._

Peter's hands moved down Harry's thin arms, his touch angry but tender. _No, I...I can't do this...I can't! So why...why can't I control my...my body?_

Peter kissed the boy passionately, and Harry felt a surge of pleasure like never before. Their bodies pressed against one another, as Peter's hands gripped Harry's wrists, firmly holding them out against the wall. The youth could feel Peter's anger burning through them both, but he loved it; it felt good to be taken hold of, to be fought back for once. _He's so intense...not like Peter at all...The old Peter would never have the nerve, or the passion...He would have been to afraid to love me like this. Besides, his glasses would have gotten in the way._

"Harry...I...I can't. I can't do--"

Harry cut him off with another kiss. Peter kissed him back, deeply, and Harry slid his wrists out of his grip. He pressed harder against him, and began trying to open his shirt.

"No! _No_!" Peter gasped. He took hold of Harry's hands and held them in his own. "I won't betray her."

He left Harry against the wall, shaking violently from emotion. "P...Peter! Peter!" He shakily tried to go after him. "Moving on is not betrayal!"

"I don't agree," Peter said briskly, buttoning his shirt. He removed his mask from his pocket and headed for the window.

"Just because she left me doesn't mean you have to!" Harry bellowed indignantly. "What's wrong with me, anyway? Am I too rich, too powerful? WHAT! Answer me, _what's wrong with me_? WHY DOES EVERYONE LEAVE ME!"

"Because you're a pushy, spoiled brat!" Peter snapped.

"What's wrong with my wanting you?" Harry asked, hurt. "I love you!"

Peter turned to him, face unreadable. "..."

"I _love_ you," Harry repeated definitively. "I always have."

Peter exhaled, and went over to him. "Then...why didn't--"

"I _did_ tell you," Harry reminded him. "I've told you a million times by now."

"...I guess I never...believed you meant it." Peter smiled at him tiredly. "I'm sorry. I should have known you wouldn't lie about something like that. It's just that you come on too strong...like you're trying to use me, or...conquer me."

"I do? I always come out like that?"

"Yeah. You always do."

"I hate rejection, and I've been rejected before," Harry explained. "Can you blame me for fighting it? Is it really that wrong to fight strongly for what you want?"

Peter stared at him, eyes glimmering sadly. "...You have a point. Actually, that's the trait I always admired in you most; that you always go for what you want, no matter what."

Harry started to smile. "You see? I told you s--"

"But," Peter quickly cut him off, "you **are** a little too arrogant."

Harry shrugged. "It's how I am. So sue me..."

"Just know when to back o--"

Completely ignoring what Peter was trying to say, Harry kissed him. "Mm...let's go eat," he said with a smirk afterwards. He pressed past Peter and went downstairs before Parker could say another word.

**Scene 05: Peter's Choice**

Harry went to the bathroom downstairs to get dressed and ready for the day. After showering, he went to see that breakfast was prepared. By the time it was served, Peter was still nowhere in sight.

_He must have gone out the window,_ Harry thought sullenly. _Why is he so sensitive? It was only a kiss. Am I supposed to stifle my feelings? Just wait around forever until he feels the same? I don't know what he wants from me._

"Crepes, huh?"

Harry looked up. Peter had joined him at the table with a small, content smile. Harry grinned triumphantly, but he refrained from gloating vocally. Although he was dying to know what Peter had decided, he took Peter's advice and backed off. That is, until breakfast was over. The moment Peter stood, Harry was at his side.

"Are you going to stay with me?"

"Actually, I have homework and stuff," Peter said. "But I'll be in touch."

"Well...are we together or not?"

"...Two days after her funeral," Peter murmured, shaking his head. "...Harry..."

Harry grabbed him arm hopefully.

"...I can't make any promises, but--" He smiled a little, tousling Harry's hair. "--I'm willing to give it a try...with you."

Harry grinned widely, giving his face a childish look. Peter gave him a hesitant kiss. Then, giving him a pat on the back, he went into the living room. Harry followed closely.

"..." Peter gave him one last smile, eyes still a bit sad, and then masked himself. He went onto the terrace, and was gone.

Harry collapsed into an armchair, taken aback by the eventful morning. _But did he have to leave so soon? Does college work by day, saves people by night...I wonder if we'll even have time to be together...Will he even remember to come back? Probably not..._

_...Unless I bring him back to me._

**End of Part Two**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

**Scene 01: All I Ever Wanted**

Harry spent most of the day contemplating Peter. He was bored and listless, and finally threw himself into company work. Still, Peter haunted him, and as the darkness of the night fell, his pondering turned to anxiety.

At 6:00, he called Peter's phone number (which he'd long since had one of his servants bring to him). Surprise, surprise; no one picked up.

_He must be out saving people,_ Harry thought angrily. _I don't want someone I have to share with every hapless victim in the city! **I** need him. He should be **here**._

By 7:00, Harry couldn't stand it any more. He threw his wireframe glasses onto the desk and left the building. On the chilly streets, he headed off alone, in search of wrongdoers. _I'll just get into a little trouble, and he'll save me,_ he figured. _Like he always used to save MJ..._

It wasn't very long before the well-dressed, solitary young man found trouble. Some thugs began following him, and he antagonized them ("What's your freaking problem? Huh?"). Naturally, they ran after him. As they pursued him into a dead-end alley, a tinge of doubt hit him. _I don't see him...He'll come, though...I know he will...right?_

If he had any reconsiderations, he didn't have time to act on them. The muggers caught him at the dead-end, grabbed him, and held a gun into his ribs. He shut his eyes as they went for his wallet and shouted at him. _Oh God...Peter, please, **please** show up..._

BAM!

When Harry reopened his eyes, he saw the gang defenseless and in disarray. Spider-man came down on a web, upside-down. "Come on, guys, a gunpoint mugging? Not very original."

The angry thugs went at him, and he easily took them on. Harry even got a punch in, just for the sake of feeling cool. Once they were all unconscious, Spider-man bound them up in webs, which sparked Harry's attention. _I wonder how strong those are? Are they sticky or slick?_

Spider-man turned to Harry. "As for you rich boys, you really have to stop your habits of wandering alone at this time of...night..." As they came into the light from a building lantern, he recognized him. "_Harry_?"

"_My hero_," Harry said cynically.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked in shock. "You never go out at night!"

"I was...um..." _Damn, I forgot to think of a story..._

"Did you come out to find me?" Peter asked. "Or...Harry, you didn't get mugged on purpose, did you?"

"N-no!"

"You did!" Peter said knowingly. "Don't lie to me! How could you put yourself in danger just to get my attention!"

"I called you, but you weren't there! So...so..." Even Harry could not think of any kind of way to excuse this, and for the first time he couldn't defend himself. "I...just...I didn't know how to reach you! Why don't you carry a cellphone!"

"In _this_?"

"Well, do you _have_ to wear tights!"

"This isn't about my tights!" Peter exclaimed. "You could have been shot! You could have been _killed_! Couldn't you have just waited an hour or two for me? You'd rather risk your life than be patient!"

Harry stared at the ground, feeling like a scolded child. "...I knew you would save me."

"And you used that against me, too!" Peter yelled at him. "Admit it! You came out looking to get in danger just to get my attention."

"Well...yes," Harry admitted defiantly. "You said we could be together, but what's the point if you're always gone? You wouldn't be complaining if I were MJ!"

"MJ would never have done something like this! _She_ had common sense!"

Harry crossed his arms. "I don't want to hear about MJ's virtues."

"Harry..." Peter had to exhale to calm himself. The very idea of losing another friend to something stupid had deeply rattled him. "All I can say is--" He pointed at his boyfriend warningly. "--don't do it again."

"Or what? You wouldn't save me again?" Harry asked, sounding hurt.

"No, I'll save you, but I'll..." Peter trailed off, trying to think of a way to threaten him. He really didn't have the desire to be cruel, and so he stayed silent for a long moment. "..."

Harry gave him an impatient, haughty look. "You'll _what_?"

His youthful, bratty look made Peter smirk beneath his mask. "I'll save you," he started over more confidently, "and then I'll spank you."

His words served their purpose; Harry's brown eyes went wide. "W-what!" he stammered. "Are you nuts? I'm twenty-four, for God's sake! You're _my_ exact same age!"

"Yeah. But I'm a hero," Peter said in a mock-stern tone, "and that makes me responsible for punishing wrongdoings, right?"

"You really have let this hero crap go to your head!" Harry shouted indignantly. "Either that or your mask is on too tight! How can you think you have the right to--"

Before he could say another word, Peter slung him over one knee. "Oh...HEY!" he protested, struggling. "That isn't funny, Parker!"

"What?" Peter lifted him up and put him over his shoulder. "I'm just giving you a lift home."

Harry glowered at him. "You're cruel."

Peter laughed, and then lowered Harry so he was against his chest instead. Taking firm hold of him, he swung them both up into the air. Harry gripped him tightly, eyes widening as they shot through the city. They went so fast that it felt like they were flying. _No wonder MJ was swept off her feet by Spider-man...This is amazing...He's amazing..._

All too soon, they were on the terrace of Harry's apartment. Peter put him down, but Harry remained in the embrace. "You're staying this time, right?"

"I'm still mad at you."

Harry ran his hands over Peter's chest, surveying the Spider suit. "Don't be mad. I just wanted to know what it's like...to be rescued by a hero." He smiled innocently, drawing Peter close. "To be saved by **my** hero."

"See, that's the problem," Peter sighed. "You act like I belong exclusively to you."

"Don't you?" Harry removed Peter's mask and kissed him. "Don't you...Peter?"

"Mmff...all right...I'll stay," Peter said, pulling out of the kiss. "I'll stay because I somehow care about you a lot, but not because I belong to you. Love isn't about ownership, Harry."

He opened the terrace doors and they came inside the Osborn home.

"What about loyalty?"

"Loyalty is a gift, not an obligation or a business deal," Peter replied. He sat down, rubbing his eyes. "If we're together, I would be loyal to you because I'd want to be. I wouldn't _have_ to be, since there's millions of ways for people to cheat, but I would _want_ to be, and so I would be."

Harry leaned against a massive armchair, arms crossed casually, and nodded.

"Would you be loyal to me?" Peter asked.

"Sure."

Peter laughed softly. "Don't just spit promises out like that! I'm serious. Think about it carefully, would you?"

"_Yes_, Peter," Harry assured him. He came and sat in the chair across from Parker's. "You're the only one I've ever loved."

"What about--"

"I took MJ because I was jealous of your love for her," Harry confessed. "I thought I wanted her...I don't know _why_ I thought I wanted her..."

"Well, she was beautiful! And smart and kind..."

"_Anyway_," Harry interrupted stiffly, "I was kidding myself. Maybe I didn't want to face the fact that I was in love with another man...or maybe loving you sexually never crossed my mind...But it was always there, Peter. It was always _you_ that I loved." He reached out and took Peter's hands into his own. "Do you believe me now?"

Peter's light eyes bore into Harry's dark ones, and finally he smiled a genuine smile. "Yeah. I get it now. I just wish you had told me before."

Harry slid down from his chair and knelt at Peter's feet. "I'm telling you now."

Peter stroked his hair. "Harry..." He leaned down and kissed Harry. This time, their lips met so naturally that it felt like they had become the same being. Never in his life had Harry felt so wanted, and never had he loved another human being so much...not even his father. After the kiss, he lay his head on Peter's lap contentedly.

"Let's be together...always."

Peter's brow furrowed. _Always...I promised MJ--no, I was going to promise her the same...and I never got the chance..._

_How can I promise him something like that, when she was the one I was going to be with forever?_

_On the other hand, how can I give him any less? It isn't his fault that she died. It isn't his fault that he loves me, or that I love her still. I can't punish him for being the person that came after Mary Jane... _

_Besides...if I miss another opportunity with another person, and the chance never comes again...I couldn't take it..._

"I..."

Harry looked up at him.

Peter stood, lifting Harry to his feet, and kissed the young man's cheek sweetly. "...I do want to be with you, but first you have to promise me, really promise me, that you'll never put yourself in danger again. I couldn't stand another loss."

"I promise."

"...Then...we **will** be together...always."

Harry nestled against his chest, thinking this over. "You love me?"

"I love you."

Harry's eyes fell on the swaying drape cloth that covered the mirror's empty place.

_'Avenge me'_

Harry shut his eyes. _No._ He smiled and embraced Peter tightly. "Someone...finally loves me..."

"I always loved you, Harry. Only, before it was platonic, and now it's...not."

Harry looked up at him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Peter just rubbed his back, and then they kissed.

_No revenge...just love. Love. That's all I've ever wanted, and now I have it. Now I can be happy._

_Now...I'll be happy..._

_I **will** be happy, with Peter...always..._

_...I..._

_...I have to be..._

**Scene 02: **

They cuddled for a little while in the living room, and then moved upstairs. Peter wasn't as nervous as he lay over Harry in the bed, something that surprised them both. His touch was confident, and strong, and he knew exactly what to do.

_Is it instinct...or my powers? Maybe I always have loved him in this way...and just never realized it..._

"You act like you've done this before," Harry teased as Peter opened his shirt. Peter leaned down and kissed his check. "Mm...been doing people behind my back all this time?"

"No. Actually--" Peter lifted his head, hair falling across his face. "--I've never..."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Wow. Hehe how lame."

Peter gave him a look, and Harry sat up to kiss him. "...Doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing matters." He began to slide the Spider suit off. "Just us, Peter."

Peter smiled and kissed him, took him into his arms. As he shook a little in Peter's arms, and their bodies touched without any clothes inbetween, his eyes were a little glazed over.

_I love him. _

_I hate him._

_I want him._

And Norman's words were running through his mind.

Peter lay him down, and he forced everything away from his mind. Their heartbeats and breathing drowned out the silence, and he let himself be lost in Peter's light eyes. He let Peter's strong, hot hands caress him, and kissed him all over his body, sometimes biting him to hear him yelp. Still, Peter led him without hesitation, picking him up and throwing him down again like a dance. Ectasy shook his body, despite his slight fear, and he clung to Peter until it hurt.

"Shh...I won't hurt you."

Harry lifted his head, looking at Peter over his shoulder. They lay against one another, bodies bare and sticky. Peter's eyes were gentle, but the rest of him was unrecognizable; he was lean and had filled out with muscle now, and even with his hair falling across his cute face, he looked every bit a man.

Peter kissed him and then held his wrists down on the sheets. "Just stay..." He kissed the small of Harry's back. "Be still."

"I...trust you," Harry told him. "Peter..."

_But I wonder..._

"Angh...P...Peter..."

"It's ok."

"_Peter_!"

_...can he trust me?_

**End of Part Three**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four - Epilogue -  
**

**Scene 01: Savior**

A storm blew threw the city that night. Peter lay awake into the late hours, holding Harry close on his chest. He listened to his new boyfriend breathing as he watched him sleep. He was a beautiful, confused boy...and Peter loved him. He loved pleasuring him as much as he loved taking care of him. He loved giving him the little scoldings he was so sorely in need of. He loved showing him that love was indeed possible...as he himself learned it again. He loved him, and his only hope was that MJ someday forgave him.

Around midnight, Peter got out of bed. He splashed some cold water on his face, stared at his reflection in the mirror. For the first time, a grown man stared back. Perhaps it was because of Harry's childish manner, or perhaps it was because he had lost his virginity (finally)...Whatever it was, it was not a bad feeling, only a little bittersweet.

Peter went downstairs to drink something before going back to sleep. He was halfway back up the stairs when a noise in the living room caught his attention. Sipping his water, he casually entered the dark, stately room. The drapes were open, allowing the storm to thrash them around, and he attributed the noise to that. He went over and pulled them close, shivering due to his lack of a shirt.

_'P...e...ter...'_

Peter whipped around, sharp gaze piercing the darkness. No one was visible, but he could feel a presence that chilled his blood. Following his senses, he approached the drape cloth, which was swaying slightly still.

_'P...eter...'_

Peter shut his eyes and responded mentally. _'Mr. Osborn? Are you there?'_

_'My...so...n...sa...ve...my son...'_

A gust of wind blew the curtains aside. Peter cautiously ducked behind the mirror's empty frame before the cloth fell again. The air was cold and moist, filling his nose with the scent of wet earth as he followed the corridor. Then, at the end of the tunnel was...

"!" Peter's face lit with shock, and his brow furrowed. He inhaled sharply as he entered a makeshift laboratory. The shelves were lined with large containers of green liquid, and there was a suit hanging in the corner. Docked in the center of the room was the infamous hoverboard. Peter shook his head in fretful wonder. "No...it can't be..."

But as he looked around, he realized how everything fit together now. It was not the spirit of Norman Osborn that was haunting Harry, but the ghost of the Green Goblin! Norman had not been able to reach his son, blocked off by the youth's anger and bitterness, and so he had appealed to Peter instead.

_"...I can't reach him anymore...You are the one I must burden with my responsibilities."_

Peter nodded to himself. _Mr. Osborn knew that I would protect him, because I always have. He knew if anyone could keep Harry from using these things, it would be me. I am the Peter that always loved him, and I am Spider-man, who defeated the Green Goblin. Besides, it couldn't be anyone else that saved him but me...because I am the one he needed to forgive._

_So...Harry wasn't really lying, and he wasn't going crazy, either...not on his own, anyway. It's been the Goblin all along...calling him...tormenting him with his own emotions..._

Peter frowned grimly. "No more," he said aloud. "I won't let you hurt Harry anymore!"

He began to tear the vials off the shelves. "This ends tonight! If Mr. Osborn had to die, then I won't let it be for nothing! The Goblin has to die! I won't lose Harry, too! Not him! Not...him..."

**Scene 02: Settling Down**

By morning, the storm had passed the city by. Harry awoke in the warmth of sunlight, lying on his back among the sheets. Once again, when he reached out, there was no one there. "Mmm...Peter?"

"I'm here."

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. Through groggy vision, he made out Peter's slim figure standing by the floor-length windows, almost blurred out by the bright sunshine. He was fully dressed, just staring out into the morning pensively. Harry grew anxious, wondering if Peter was having doubts about their being lovers.

"Um..." Harry stretched, yawned, scratched his disheveled hair, and finally got out of bed. "Hey...so..."

Peter stared at Harry as he approached, so silent that Harry stopped before reaching him. He stared at the floor awkwardly. "...Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Well..."

Peter broke into a smile. He drew Harry close and gave him a reassuring kiss. Shocked, it took Harry a long moment to catch his breath when it ended. He stared at Peter, trying to read his eyes.

"I love you, Harry," Peter told him. "And I was thinking about what you said about being together. You're right; between my school and Spider-man, I'm not going to have much time to be going back and forth from here to my apartment."

"Oh, but--"

"Wait, wait, let me finish!" Peter exclaimed, holding Harry by the shoulders. "I was just thinking that it would be easier if we moved in together."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked in disbelief. "You'd move in with me here?"

"Not here," Peter clarified. "I thought we'd be roommates again. Like last time, only...er...more intimate. A nice loft, shared rent..."

"Yes!" Harry embraced him enthusiastically. "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you! Ha ha! Thank God you finally got it!"

"I--mm--" Peter was cut off by Harry's ferociously happy kiss. "--mm...I--mm---Harry!"

"Mmm hm?" Harry responded, face buried in Peter's neck.

"I...forgot," laughed Peter. He stroked Harry's thin arms. "Anyway...we'll find a place today, and figure everything else out later."

"I can pay for everything. I don't care, as long as we're together."

Peter nodded. "We will be."

"Let's start looking!" Harry said happily, going to get some fresh clothes. "I heard about this great place on the upper side, that, I think, Jameson's son is selling. It's really high-end and just about big enough for two. It'd be perfect!"

Peter watched him with a bemused smile. _There he goes making plans all by himself again..._

"I was already talking with the real estate agent, and they seemed eager for me to buy it, so I bet we can drop by this morning. If it's no good, there's still a few other deals out there, but if it's ok, then--"

"I think we should move in today."

Harry slowed down a little, buttoning his shirt. "Today?" he echoed. "Ah...well, all the packing, and...and stuff."

Peter eyed him suspiciously. "Well...I thought you'd just have your people take care of that."

"Yeah, but..." Harry turned his back on Peter, slipping into some black slacks. "Some things I'd rather handle myself, you know?"

"Besides, you know how the city is!" Harry went on more brightly. "It could take months to find a good place that doesn't have a million offers on it!"

"Yeah..."

"So let's go start looking right now!" Harry said. He ran his hands through his hair, grabbed Peter by the hand, and dragged him out. It was decided, and so they went off house-hunting.

**Scene 03: A Change of Tenants**

As it turned out, the apartment was truly perfect. The ultra-modern two-bedroomer was at the top of its game, with everything profesionally designed and crafted out of the best materials available. Peter was impressed, although he felt slightly resentful knowing it was Harry's money, mostly, that would be sustaining them in this beautiful home. Harry acted every bit the aloof customer, pestering the agent with tons of questions and vying for a chance to knock the price down.

"Hm...I really don't know," he said airily, although his eyes were shining as he took a last look around the kitchen. "It is very expensive."

While the real estate agent was catching up, Peter gave Harry a swat on the bottom. "Give it a rest," he whispered. "You're obviously going to buy it."

Harry smirked a little. "Can't fool you, can I?"

"No."

"Spider-senses?"

"No, just that I know you that well," Peter told him. "The more you pretend not to care about something, the more you want it. Remember that model car you kept telling your father that you didn't want, that it wasn't worth the money?"

Harry laughed. "Oh yeah, then he got it for me for Christmas! I really had wanted that thing so bad..."

"I was the one who told him you wanted it."

"Really?" Harry put an arm around Peter's shoulders. "You've always been there for me, huh?"

"Yeah, helping you be the spoiled little brat you are today," Peter said, moving Harry's arm off as the real estate agent joined them.

Harry just smiled, and approached the agent to talk about the sale. Peter watched him handle the business, wishing that he were the one supporting them. Then, he realized that it was more Norman's money than Harry's, as Harry had not really done anything to earn it yet (in fact, he was sinking Oscorp). Peter figured it was an even trade, living off the Osborn money for a short while in exchange for having probably saved Harry's life, protecting him from himself.

_'I'll repay it all, Mr. Osborn. Not only by loving and protecting him, either. I'll earn my place in this world myself.'_

Harry flashed Peter a cocky, cute smile. Peter just shook his head. The agent went outside the building to place a call to the owner. Alone, Harry used the opportunity to give Peter a kiss.

"Sooo...what do you think?"

"I've missed living with you, actually," Peter replied. "It'll just be us this time, and...we're the ones in love..."

"Yep. Just us," Harry said gratefully. _Not to think anything bad about MJ...but with her gone, nothing will be in our way. Nothing to fight over, no betrayals, no jealousy. The love triangle is down to just Peter and I. Wow, I...can't even believe this is real...He's really mine...just mine, like he was meant to be...and I'm so happy..._

As he thought it, however, that old sensation rippled through him. _'Avenge me, Harry.'_

Harry shut his eyes, leaning his head on Peter's shoulder. _Please, please let me have this...Go away...Just go away! Let me have this! I'm so tired of suffering..._

Just then, the door opened. Harry and Peter practically jumped away from each other. "!"

To both of their surprises, John Jameson, the son of Peter's boss and the man Mary Jane almost married, entered the room. He was a tall, brown-haired man slightly older than Peter and Harry. Peter felt a tinge of guilt, and painful memories of Mary Jane at his side made him look away. Harry caught his unease, but couldn't do anything about it.

"Oh. I didn't know anyone was here," John said when he noticed them. He was pale, and his eyes were puffy and swollen, most likely from mourning his fiance. "You're Harry Osborn, aren't you?"

"Yes." Harry extended his hand. "We already met at the...um..."

John smiled wryly. "Yes, at the wedding that wasn't." His eyes fell on Peter. "And you...are?" He frowned. "I know I've at least seen you, but, I'm sorry, I can't remember for the life of me..."

It dawned on them that John had no idea he was speaking to the cause of his failed wedding. Peter hastily shook his hand. "I'm Peter, Peter Parker. I, er...work for your dad at the newspaper. For the paper." He smiled awkwardly. "I take pictures."

"Ah...yeah. Yeah, that was it." John clearly did not remember him at all. "Nice to see you both. So, you're looking at this place?"

"Yeah."

"Yes."

Harry and Peter shared a nervous look. John did not notice.

"It's a great place," he weakly pitched. "We were going to live here after the wedding. It's...near the theater." His lips tightened and he swallowed. "...Excuse me. It's just..."

Harry gripped his shoulder comfortingly. _Poor guy. MJ's rejection and subsequent demise must have destroyed him. It was a blessing in disguise for me, but he...he has nothing left...Peter and I had each other to fall back on, but he's got no one, obviously._

Peter was not too thrilled at how close Harry was to John. He hated to admit that he was jealous of another man because of Harry...but he was. He nudged Harry, who gave him a half-confused, half-nonchalant glance.

"That's why I'm selling this place," John continued, drawing a deep breath. "We never got to live here, but I still picture her everywhere. I couldn't stand living here."

"Well, you're in luck," Harry told him. "We definitely want to buy."

Peter finally yanked Harry's hand off of John's shoulder. Harry raised his eyebrows. "?"

John remained clueless to their body language. "You do? Seriously?"

Peter, holding Harry's arm by the sleeve, nodded. Harry was staring at Peter, but managed to confirm, "Yes."

John's phone rang and he picked up. "Ha, what a coincidence." He covered the cell's mouthpiece. "It's my agent, calling from downstairs. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

"Yep."

John left, in a better mood.

"Can I have my arm back?" Harry tore out of Peter's grip. "What's _your_ problem?"

"Nothing!"

"Are you jealous?"

Peter blushed. "No!"

"Yes you are!" Harry burst into laughter. "You're jealous! You think I like that guy? Hahaha!"

"Shut up, Harry," Peter grumbled.

Harry went on laughing obnoxiously. Deep down, he was touched.

**Scene 04: Loose Ends**

It took a few hours, but the sale was made. Glad to be rid of the memories, John told them they could move in as soon as they wanted. Having missed breakfast, Harry and Peter first stopped by a corner restaurant for an early lunch.

"So, you really want to be in by tonight?" Harry asked over pasta. He was quite ansy about the upheaval of moving, since the Osborn residence had many important things hidden inside. If anyone happened upon the secrets contained inside, it could be disastrous. How was he going to keep Peter away long enough to retrieve everything safely?

"Yes, tonight," Peter said firmly. Not wanting to come off too strong, he cheerfully said, "Don't you love the idea of just us, some take-out, and a mattress?"

"No."

"_No_?"

"Sorry, I just..." Harry twirled some spaghetti onto his fork. "...I have lots to have packed up. It's going to be a big...effort..."

"I'll help."

"No!"

"Harry..."

Harry stared glumly at his place. "I guess it'll be okay. We can split up after eating. You go get the (tiny bit of) stuff at your place, and I'll have my people start packing up _all of_ my things."

Peter just stared at him. _I wonder if he puts effort into being a show-off, or if it just comes naturally?_

"It shouldn't take _you_ too long, but I'm going to be overseeing the move for weeks," Harry went on. "So I guess we can meet at the new place by tonight."

Peter nodded. "Okay."

Harry smiled. "Great. I can't wait. Once we're together again..."

_He has a weird look in his eyes,_ Peter observed. _I can tell he's scared to go back to that place. Well, I already took care of everything, so...it shouldn't be a problem._

"You look nervous," Harry commented. "You _do_ want to be with me, right?"

Peter placed a hand over Harry's. "Yes. I want to be with you forever."

"Peter..." Harry bowed his head. A wave of guilt swept over him, and his voice became uncharacteristically small. "...I don't deserve you..."

"Yeah, you do," Peter said gently. "You've been through a lot, and...I was always too caught up in my life and MJ to pay attention; I just dismissed you as a whiny brat because of your money. You're not the only one that's made bad choices, so why would you be the only one that deserves to end up without love? I'm the one, actually, who probably doesn't deserve it..."

"Don't say that."

"No, it's true," Peter said with a sad glint in his eyes. "But I'm not going to punish myself by refusing you, that would be pointless. We'd both be miserable and alone! I suppose I'll pay for everything in another way...but never through the pain of an innocent. Not that you're totally innocent...but you've suffered enough, I think."

"So have you." Done eating, Harry stood. "Let's just stop worrying. Starting tonight, we'll just _live_, like normal people again! You remember how, right?"

Peter made an amused noise. "No."

"Neither do I," Harry grinned. "We'll figure it out, though, together."

Peter nodded. "Deal."

Harry leaned down to kiss him, and then headed back to his place. _Now, all that's left is making the move without any more drama._

**Scene 05: Saying Goodbye**

_I don't even want to take anything with me._

Harry returned for the last time to his home, and wandered around it like a ghost. He noticed things he'd never paid attention to before, mused over items he'd never cared about, studied everything he had taken for granted. It had always been a given that this was his home, but suddenly it felt alien.

_These are my father's things, my family's things. As much as they meant to them, I...I don't like any of it! I don't know anything about these antiques...and I really don't want to know. Ancient stuff creeps me out, and the memories of dad that are tied to them just hurt me more. Everything reminds me of him. The chair he used to sit in to read the paper. The desk he was always sitting at, while I tried to get him to play with me. The carpet I tripped on, and he caught me before I fell..._

_I feel bad, but I can't take any of it with me. I'm going to sell it all. Dad wasted his life working for that damned company, all for the money to afford these stupid things, thinking it would impart culture on me. All I really wanted was him to be there, though...him and Peter...None of these things mattered to me. I was always so lonely in this place..._

_It was in here...Peter brought me his body...It was in this room I saw my father dead... _

_No. I have to start over. I'll move on with **my** things, by myself. Otherwise, I'd go crazy._

Harry went upstairs to his bedroom, and smiled faintly. _This is the only place that I ever felt belonged to me. I have lots of memories of Peter being here...watching TV, reading comics, doing my homework...making love..._

_I'll be back with movers to get the TV, the bed, my clothes, my comics, toys...I just need some things for the week._

Harry took a suitcase out and began stuffing it with clothing. He came across an old comic and packed it in just for the hell of it. _Peter got me this. I read it, and then never bothered buying any more from this series. Poor Peter, he'd really wanted me to be into it, but I never listened to him. So we moved on to other things. Like always, he went along with whatever I did back then...Ha! Try getting him to change for me now!_

He picked up a framed photograph from his desk. Norman Osborn, a bit younger, was smiling at him, and holding a five-year-old Harry on his shoulders. Cony Island, before it became a total cesspool, could be seen in the background.

_This is my father, my real father. I'd forgotten this side of him, but I won't again. He loved me, and he loved Peter, too. He was a good person that would never hurt anyone, and certainly wouldn't want me to hurt anyone on his behalf._

Harry ended up packing much more than he'd planned to. He took several trips down to the car with suitcases full of clothing and mementos. In truth, he was stalling the inevitable visit back to the secret lab.

By evening, every last important sentiment was in the truck he'd had sent over, and so were all the company files and computers and hidden equipment. The belongings of the Goblin were all that was left. Dragging his feet, Harry finally went back into the living room.

"...D...Dad?"

Oddly enough, all was silent. The presence of his father was completely gone.

_Am I okay now?_ Harry wondered. _Loving Peter, has it really cured me? ...I guess I won't know until...I face him in there..._

Harry drew a breath and entered the corridor behind the drape cloth. He followed it until he came to...

"...WHAT!"

The room was entirely empty. Enraged, Harry tore through it like a maniac, but found nothing. Every last container of serum was gone. The suit had vanished. The hoverboard was missing.

"It...It can't! Where is it!"

A quiet voice answered, "I took it."

Harry whipped around. "Peter!"

Peter stepped into the light fully. "I took all of it," he repeated in quiet determination. "It's over, Harry, _really_ over."

Harry grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "What do you mean 'over'? Where is it!"

"I got rid of it."

"How could you do that!" Harry shrieked at him. "Those were my father's things! You killed him, and now you took away every last trace of him, too! How could you do that! MURDERER!"

Peter pulled Harry into a strong kiss. Harry squirmed, but even as tears fell from his eyes, he kissed Peter back. "Mm..." he very weakly protested.

Peter drew back, and embraced him. "It's okay, Harry," he soothed him. "It's ok. Everything is over now. We're just going to be happy, remember?"

"Peter..." Harry broke into sobs as the pain of letting the past go finally hit him. "That was...it was...my father," he cried. "It was my father..."

"No, it wasn't." Peter kissed his forehead. "You know that was not your father."

Harry crumbled against him, crying loudly into his shirt. Peter just held him patiently, uttering small words of comfort and rubbing his back. It had been a very long time since Harry had let himself break against the pain, but it was relieving to finally let it all come to the surface.

_I can't believe he's still holding me. If he ever cried like this, I'd just laugh at him. God, I really do love him so much..._

Peter tilted Harry's face towards his own by the chin, and kissed him. Still sniffling, Harry wiped his eyes with a fist, trying to calm himself. "You...really got rid of all of it?"

"Yeah, only..." Peter held Harry at arms' length. "Harry, there were two vials already missing. I need to know...did you use them?"

Harry shook his head, though not meeting Peter's eyes. "No."

"It's important, so please, don't lie to me. Did you use it on yourself, or anyone else?"

"No. My father must have already used them." He touched Peter's face. "See? I don't have any powers or anything."

Peter kissed him gratefully. "Thank goodness...I happened to come in here last night, and I was terrified. I realized why you've been so scared, and I thought...maybe you'd used some of it already."

"No." Harry finished drying his eyes on his sleeve. "I considered it, and...I fought it. It sounds corny, but...I was able to fight it because of you."

"Forgiving me and letting yourself love me again...that allowed you to let go of the pain and anger, didn't it?"

"Yeah..." Harry walked to the empty shelves, running a hand over them. "I'll never be completely over it--" He turned to Peter. "--but I'll never hate you again, either. I love you too much to want to hurt you."

Peter nodded. "...So, are you ready to go?"

Harry smiled weakly. For the first time, his eyes were clear and untroubled. "Yeah. I'm ready to leave."

Peter put an arm around him and led him out. Walking down the corridor, Harry took one last look back.

**Epilogue Savin' Me **

**Peter:** _"Just like that, our lives were changed forever. Everything happened so fast that I doubt I even had a moment to breathe, much less start having doubts! But even if I had thought it out to its entirety, the outcome would have been the same. I always had loved him. I'd never considered being with him this way, and if MJ had lived, I never would have. But without my love to get him through his pain, I would have lost him, too. Had fate made my choices for me? Was this our destiny, all three of us?_

_"I sort of wondered: if I had just stayed Peter, could I have had them both? Harry as a best friend, and Mary Jane as my wife? My life had taken so many turns by then, simplicity seemed like a vaguely remembered dream. A normal life...Had I ever been entitled to one? Meant for one? I couldn't even imagine it anymore..._

_"If there were no Spider-man, though, wouldn't we all have died to the Goblin or to Doc Ock anyway? Or would those two never have happened? Would Uncle Ben be alive, had I not saved his murderer that night, instead doing homework back at home? Would MJ ever have even noticed me? Would Harry have fallen in love with me?_

_"I had loved, lost, lost more, and now I was loving again. Maybe I should have been depressed and bitter, but I wasn't. I knew that as much as I was saving Harry, he was also saving me. I never would have gotten through MJ's death without him there to annoy me, inspire me...and ultimately love me. He was a distraction from the pain, but so much more, too. I would have stayed wallowing in self-pity, but he didn't give me a chance to...because he was doing exactly the same thing! I saw through him how wrong it was, and while I was trying to rekindle his desire to live, I was encouraging myself. Along the way, I think we both realized...how alive we still were, how we still could reach out and love..._

_"There's a lot of things I'd take back and lots more things I would change if I could. Those things don't matter, though. This is what my life is now, and I'm just grateful that it's not what I thought it would be. I always thought my world would end if she was gone from me...but it didn't. As much as it hurts, my world kept spinning, and Harry sort of spun it in his direction, somehow! But I don't mind at all. I love him for it._

_"I was always so aware of the things I'd lost...but this time, I was aware of the precious few things I had left. Being inspired to protect those few things and people made it easier to move on. I'll always hurt, I know that, but I no longer can tolerate anyone I love being hurt. So, Peter Parker, and Spider-man, will go on, so long as I live...so long as I love."_

**Harry:** _"So many things were decided that day, and we weren't even aware of it! All I knew was that I was in love._

_"It sounds so simple, being in love, but it isn't. I had so many doubts..._

_"Had I stolen Peter from our deceased friend, Mary Jane? I had dated her, now I was with the man she love, how wrong was that? Was it dangerous to rely so heavily on one person, to make them the reason I lived on? Was it even love, or was it a result of my obsession with Spider-man? Was I really gay? Would my father be disappointed in me for loving a man? There were so many things I feared..._

_"But...every time I look into his eyes, all that is gone. I feel safe, like everything is going to be just fine. Even if it wasn't, he would always protect me._

_"Finally, I didn't feel alone anymore. Not being good enough wasn't even an issue; I was good enough for him to love me, so that was all that mattered._

_"I still had a lot to learn, and we'd always have problems. Who doesn't? It didn't matter, because we'd go through whatever happened **together**. Not as two rivalrous friends or a couple of confused teenagers...but as two adults who loved each other._

_"Yeah, I have to say that week was the most significant of my life. A few days, that's all it was. Years of emotions...and it all came down to those four days. It's kind of sad and beautiful how quickly life can change. I don't know what would have happened to me without those four days...or whether Peter would have been better off without them...but I do know there isn't one second of them I would take back."_

Prison gates won't open up for me  
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'  
Oh, I reach for you  
Well I'm terrified of these four walls  
These iron bars can't hold my soul in  
All I need is you  
Come please I'm callin'  
And oh I scream for you   
Hurry I'm fallin' (fallin')  
I'm fallin'.

Show me what it's like  
To be the last one standing  
And teach me wrong from right  
And I'll show you what I can be  
Say it for me  
Say it to me  
And I'll leave this life behind me  
Say it if it's worth saving me.

Heaven's gates won't open up for me  
With these broken wings I'm fallin'  
And all I see is you  
These city walls ain't got no love for me  
I?m on the ledge of the eighteenth story  
And oh I scream for you  
Come please I'm callin'  
And all I need from you  
Hurry I'm fallin' (fallin')   
I'm fallin'.

Show me what it's like  
To be the last one standing  
And teach me wrong from right  
And I'll show you what I can be  
Say it for me  
Say it to me  
And I'll leave this life behind me  
Say it if it's worth saving me  
Hurry I'm fallin'

And all I need is you  
Come please I'm callin'   
And oh I scream for you  
Hurry I'm fallin'  
(I'm fallin', I'm fallin')  
Show me what's it like  
To be the last one standing  
And teach me wrong from right  
And I'll show you what I can be  
Say it for me  
Say it to me  
And I'll leave this life behind me  
Say it if it's worth saving me  
Hurry I'm fallin'  
Say it for me  
Say it to me  
And I'll leave this life behind  
Say it if it's worth saving me.

from Nickelback - "Savin' Me"

** The End  
**


End file.
